Christmas Wish
by ladybrit
Summary: A short Christmas story.


December 2014

**Christmas Wish**

Kitty Russell stood alone at the batwing doors of the Long Branch saloon, allowing her eyes to drift over Front Street. Usually the town was relatively peaceful this time of year because the cattle drives were long since over and the only people around were the local residents and maybe some outlying ranchers and homesteaders. The weather had been especially harsh this December, and even now the wind was blowing and a cold rain was falling into the darkness which gave the town a ghostly feel. She had recently become the proud part owner of the Long Branch Saloon so the importance of having customers propping up the bar and consuming large quantities of beer and whisky had taken on a whole new meaning for her.

This would be her third Christmas In Dodge City. The first one should have been enough to warn her away from the town. If it hadn't been for Chester's brother Magnus, that crazy preacher, Lucifer Jones, would have ended her life right here in the Long Branch Saloon. She smiled to herself as she looked down at the set of keys she held in her hand. She had stopped off in Dodge City on a whim, planning to stay for maybe six months. Somehow she had never left. By sheer determination she had worked her way up from saloon girl to part owner and now just a few days ago, her business partner Bill Pence, had told her she had full charge of the place for the next month because he was going to visit his brother and family in St. Joseph, Missouri. At least that is what she thought he had said. He had mumbled something at her as he thrust the keys in her hand, then rushed off to the depot. He had never had the opportunity to leave the saloon for any extended period of time since the day he purchased it, so she could hardly blame him for taking off like that, whatever his purpose. The prospect of running the Long Branch for a few weeks didn't worry her much. She had been doing the books and the orders for quite a while now and it wasn't like the saloon business was new to her, so all in all she was happy with the arrangement. Better still, on reflection, it would give her an opportunity to do something special to liven the place up for the holidays and maybe give her a chance to…..well she wouldn't think too much about that now in case it didn't work out.

She had rallied the girls who worked in the saloon, to try to create some excitement by arranging a big Christmas celebration, partly to counteract all this sobriety which seemed to have descended on the town. Come to think of it, this was the first time she did not look kindly on a quiet evening. She did have another reason in mind for planning the festivities. She was hoping that United States Marshal Matt Dillon would be here. In fact the whole idea of a party was something she had dreamed up to maybe get a little closer to the man who was the real reason she had remained in Dodge City in the first place. Last year she had planned a nice evening with Doc, Chester and the Marshal. A small gathering at a little restaurant on the outskirts of town. She had hoped that the lawman would be there and escort her home, sadly that did not work out. Two days before Christmas Eve he left town to take a prisoner to Hays and did not return until a few days later when all the festivities were over and forgotten. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the company of Doc and Chester, but she had been hoping for a little more. This year there were no occupants in the jail except the occasional drunk and she had found out that Judge Brooking would not be around again before the New Year which meant that unless something unexpected happened Dillon would remain in town.

She turned back from the doors and looked at Clem, the barkeep who had been working this evening.

"There isn't any point in staying open," she told him, "even the usual drunks have left the street. We might as well close up and have an early night."

Three of the girls who worked in the Long Branch were sitting around an empty table looking cold and lonely. They all stared up at her with inquiring faces.

"Y'all might as well go wash you hair or something, I can't see us doing any business tonight. Even the Texas Trail has closed its doors."

Sounds of high pitched laughter followed her along the hallway as she pushed aside the dividing curtain to get to her small suite. It was a sure indication that the girls had already gathered in someone's room and were appreciating the early evening without cowboys or ranchers to entertain. She remembered those days. It had been fun to relax and enjoy the camaraderie that existed among the girls, most of whom had little in the way of family. Unfortunately such times meant that they weren't earning any money. Nowadays of course she no longer "worked the floor" herself and would see to it that the girls received at least some pay for the evening.

Her room was dark and cold when she entered. She stopped next to the small round table just inside the door and lit the oil lamp sitting there, then picked up some sticks from the wood box and threw them into the stove. Slowly, flames came to life and she helped them along with a prod from the big iron poker before standing back to watch for a few minutes. Carefully she closed the noisy iron door and adjusted the vents. It wouldn't be long before the room began to feel warmer. She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot to the window that overlooked the street. There was no one around, the boardwalks were empty and even the few stray dogs that could usually be seen scavenging for the odd food scraps, were absent. Most likely even they had enough sense to find a small dry corner to tuck themselves into for the night.

It was mid December and she planned the big party in the Long Branch for Christmas Eve. Almost every thing was ready. She had ordered a variety of meats and pies and hoped and prayed that the Marshal would be there this time.

She made herself comfortable on the chaise from where she could watch the fire in the stove.

The flames danced around and hypnotized her into their warmth. She thought back over her time here in Dodge City and realized that the young Marshal featured prominently in it. In fact she would never have stayed in this "Gomorrah of the plains" in the first place if it wasn't for him. Unfortunately, as far as she could tell, he was totally unaware of that fact.

To begin with she thought that he didn't notice her at all, or maybe he was ashamed to acknowledge a mere saloon girl. Gradually she became aware that he was a frequent visitor to the Long Branch. While he was in town he would drop by three or four times during the day, many more visits than he paid to the other saloons. She began to notice a pattern. Often he would come by late in the morning and would stand at the swing doors looking around. If he saw her he would come on in and casually walk over and ask if everything was alright or if business was good, or maybe had she seen Doc or Chester. Often he would come back around lunch time when the place was busier. If she was working behind the bar he would come and prop himself there and order a beer, sometimes even ask her to go to lunch at Delmonico's. This went on for several months. He seemed to enjoy talking to her but never suggested any closer kind of friendship. The other girls told her that if she was not around he wouldn't stop but just move on down the board walk after looking the place over.

She began to get a little braver, sometimes brushing the back of his large, work toughened hand with her fingers as she passed him a drink. One time she even asked him to come sit at a table with her and surprisingly enough he did. Often Chester or Doc or both of them would join the pair and he seemed to be more comfortable then. Gradually over the course of many months she could feel that he wanted to be with her more, but something seemed to be holding him back. Sometimes he would be out of town for days, even weeks and when he returned he would seek her company even more, especially if the trip had been to Hays and he had delivered a prisoner for hanging. She had eventually plucked up the courage to talk with Doc about it, in a roundabout way of course. Maybe the man was married or even had a family somewhere, after all, she knew of several affluent ranchers who seemed to be happily married but would still come and seek her company from time to time. One or two she would even entertain in her room, they paid well and all they wanted was a willing ear and a little comfort. Doc had assured her that to the best of his knowledge there was no wife or little Dillons.

It was a little over a year before he had asked her to go fishing. She could hardly believe that it happened although she had hinted often enough. He had asked Doc to go along as well, but by some chance the physician got called out of town at the last minute and when Matt came by alone in the wagon to pick her up he seemed a little hesitant. She assured him that it was fine, she had no qualms about driving the few miles out of town to Silver Creek in the company of a Marshal. At first he sat with a respectable distance between his body and hers. She had laughed inwardly but managed to keep a light conversation going while taking every opportunity offered by bumps and pot holes in the road to move a little closer. He didn't move away. To the contrary he seemed more relaxed the closer she got and the further from town they traveled. When they arrived at Silver Creek he reached up to help her down from the wagon. Was it her imagination or did his hands linger a little longer than necessary around her waist as he helped her safely to the ground? The fishing hadn't been very good so they had rested side by side on the blanket he had brought and watched the few white clouds hurry across the blue Kansas sky. Conversation had been easy. At one point his hand had brushed lightly against hers. She felt her heart race as he leaned over and she got to look into his soft blue eyes. The anticipation she experienced was almost too much to bear. She thought he was going to kiss her, was sure he wanted to, but then at the last minute he pulled back.

"I'm sorry Kitty," he said as he withdrew back into his shell

"What for?" she had asked trying to let him know that all was well.

"I have no right," he replied. She had no idea what that meant and he wouldn't say more.

"Are you married with a passel of kids hidden out somewhere?" She asked jokingly, wondering what was wrong.

"No, nothing like that."

"Well I'm not objecting and I'm sure that I am not that bad to look at, at least according to all the cowboys that come to the Long Branch. Or..." an idea came to her, "maybe it's because of the way I earn my living."

"No, no nothing like that," he repeated.

He became quiet and withdrawn. There was something he could not say and the conversation got no further. Shortly thereafter he decided he had to get back to town and loaded up the wagon. When he helped her up onto the board he held her as far from his body as he could.

For several days he avoided the Long Branch altogether. He would check the doors and see that all the lights were out when he made his rounds late at night, but hardly stepped foot inside the place in the day time. She was totally distressed by this. What had happened? Had she spoiled their friendship by trying to push him too hard?

Even the other girls noticed the change in the Marshal's routine and wondered what had happened on the fishing trip. She couldn't tell them because she didn't know either and, after a while, decided that for some reason or another he was not interested in her. She had about given up on the idea of Matt Dillon when one evening, just like before, he looked over the batwing doors, saw her at the back of the saloon and came on in as if nothing had ever happened.

There was such a lot of good and honesty in Dillon. She could tell that he was devoted to the badge that was pinned on his chest. She feared for him every time there was a showdown on Front Street, but somehow he seemed to survive. She could tell that the job wore heavy on him and sometimes she wanted to tell him to take a vacation. Even if he didn't take her with him she knew he was working himself into the ground and needed a break.

Then came that one night she would always remember, the night that she learned a lot about the lawman. The crowds had all dispersed when he came by at the end of his nightly rounds. It had been a rough evening with at least two cattle drives in town. He had broken up two fights in the Long Branch that night and several more in the other saloons around town. He had also been forced into a gunfight out on the street, but once again his skill and his luck kept him safe.

He flopped himself into one of the chairs at the table at the back of the saloon where he usually sat with her.

"You look tired", she told him as she brought a whisky and placed on the table in front of him. Since that disaster of a fishing trip she never made any attempt to touch his hand with hers, so she was surprised when he reached out and caught her wrist. "Sit and talk with me a while." A simple request. She looked around the bar, it was 2 am and everyone had gone home except for Freddie who had already begun to stack chairs on tables.

"Tell you what," she said, deciding it was all or nothing, "I've got a new bottle of Napoleon Brandy in my room, I'll lock the door behind Freddie and we'll go try it."

Surprisingly he didn't object. He followed her up the stairs and took it upon himself to light the lamps in her room.

Soon they were sitting side by side on the small settee sipping on the delicate brandy. No words were exchanged for a while. Finally he broke the silence.

"I owe you an apology and an explanation Kitty." His voice was quiet and he was staring into the delicate glass that was almost hidden by his long, strong fingers.

She didn't known what to say, after all she would like to know what had happened back there at Silver Creek.

"You don't have to explain anything Matt. I'm your friend and that's all." She had to admit she had been a little bitter. Ever since she had first seen him that fateful morning when she got off the stage, she had wanted to get to know him better. Now that she knew so much more about him, she wanted something other than mere friendship, but if for some reason that was all he could give, she would accept it. Maybe not for ever but certainly for now.

"It's this badge," his voice was still quiet and halting. " When I pinned it on I took an oath and I can't go back on that." She waited, not sure what part this had to play in that fiasco of an afternoon. He looked up from his glass, seeking her eyes, maybe wanting her to help him but she remained silent, determined that this was going to be up to him.

"I have to face all kinds of men in this job, Kitty. If there was someone special in my life they would be exposed to the same dangers. Maybe someone would get the idea of hurting me by hurting you.. or anyone else. Worse still my chances of living a long life are pretty small. I wouldn't want to leave a grieving family. Do you understand that?"

There was really no answer to his predicament. She wanted him so badly, just sitting next to him inhaling his aroma was intoxicating. She had brought many men to this room, none of them made her feel like she felt now. She wanted him but now saw that he could not allow himself to want her. It left an ache inside that she couldn't describe.

They sat and talked for a while until he got up to leave, as she stood by the door wanting to beg him not to go, he took her in his arms and kissed her. Not a deep lover's kiss, but a soft gentle touch to her lips. She wanted more but before she could prevent it, he was out the door and she reluctantly followed him down the stairs to let him out and lock the saloon doors behind him. She needed to lock the doors to her heart in the same way but it wasn't possible. She was hopelessly in love and she knew it.

The room was warm now and Kitty got up from the chaise trying to push the anguish of those memories behind her. She brushed out her hair and changed into a cotton gown before putting more wood in the stove and climbing into bed.

The wind was still howling outside and through the noise of it all she thought if she listened carefully, she could hear his slightly uneven footsteps climbing the outside stairs from the alley. Her heart beat faster in anticipation, she even sat upright to improve her ability to hear, but the sound faded. It was only the noise of the wind rattling loose boards on the outside of the building.

She lay down again, pulling the blankets tighter around her, wondering why this man had made such an impact on her. She knew it wasn't just his looks, there was much more to Matt Dillon than that. Even so her mind went back to the first time she had really seen his lean muscular body. It had been a forbidden glimpse and she had felt guilty about it ever since it happened.

Doctor Galen Adams was a busy man. As the only physician for at least at least 60 miles in any direction, he had a flourishing, if not financially rewarding practice. From time to time he would have a woman in labor, a sick child or a wounded man resting in the back room of his office. Often he would get Ma Smalley to sit with them if he had to leave on an emergency. Sometimes Ma was not available and he had started asking Kitty to help out. She enjoyed working with the physician. He had a crusty, recalcitrant exterior but inside that beat a heart of caring, devoted to his profession.

It had been about one o'clock on a spring afternoon earlier this year when he had sent for her. She was glad to help out, after all he took care of the girls in the saloon when they got sick and barely charged them for his services. This was at least something she could do towards repaying that.

Doc had met her at top of the stairs.

"Come in Kitty. I'm sorry to have to call on you but Ma has gone away to visit her sister in Wichita and I have a sick man in the back room.

"I'm only too happy to help out, Curly, you know that."

He passed his hand over his mustache and pulled on his ear, a sure sign that he was stressed.

"I shouldn't be too long, got to go see a child with the croup."

"That's no problem."

"Well it might be," he pulled on his ear again. "Matt got back into town this morning."

" I didn't know that, he usually stops by to let me know."

"Not at three o'clock in the morning. Moss had to help him up here. He's back there now," he indicated the back room," with a heck of a fever and possibly pneumonia, I hate to leave him like that but I have to. I have dosed him up with medicine to keep him quiet and still but if his fever starts to rise again someone needs to be here."

"Is he going to be alright?" Kitty was alarmed. She knew Doc had to patch up the Marshal from time to time after he came in from the trail, or he had taken a bullet in a gun fight, but a sickness like this she never considered.

"Well he's a strong man and I think he should be."

"Of course I'll stay with him, what do you need me to do?"

He led her to the back room where Dillon was laying on the bed covered with a sheet and a thin blanket. He looked pale but his face was flushed and his eyes were closed.

"It doesn't do the town any good for folks to know that their law officer is out of action so I couldn't send word to you."

He showed her the bowl of cold water and the cloth to sponge his face if the fever started to rise, and some medicine she could try to get down him if necessary, then Moss was knocking on the door to tell the doctor that his buggy was ready and waiting. The two men exchanged quiet words and Adams left.

Kitty took her seat at the bedside of the stricken Marshal. Except for a few groans and a little head tossing he was quiet. Periodically she touched his forehead to check for fever, he was warm but not too hot. His hand was laying on top of the covers. She compared it in size to her own. She picked it up, noting the callouses on his fingers from long hours in the saddle. She could see some bruising on his knuckles and figured he had been in a fight. She took the hand between her own, treasuring the feel as she ran soothing fingers over it. She even went so far as touching it to her face. Suddenly she placed the hand back on the covers, feeling guilty about her actions. She sat for a while longer, then got up to look out of the window. Doc had been gone for about an hour and she hoped he wouldn't be too much longer. She looked back at the man on the bed, he was becoming a little more restless. She took the cloth Doc had left and soaked it in the cold water. There were beads of sweat appearing on his forehead now and she wrung the cloth out then gently dabbed them away. He was becoming more restless and was rolling his head from side to side. She spoke to him softly trying to soothe his fears. He was muttering sounds but she could not make out any particular words. She tried calling his name but again he was too deep in fever to recognize her voice. "Matt, it's Kitty," she tried again, " please be still, Doc will be back soon." Again there was no sign that he understood her. His movements were becoming more frantic and before she could stop it he had thrown the covers back and she was staring at his almost naked muscular frame. She hesitated a moment almost shocked. She had sometimes imagined him in her bed stretched out just like this. There were times he had visited her room after he had completed his late night rounds and the Long Branch had closed its doors. They sat on her small settle and sipped Napoleon Brandy from fine glass snifters that she had ordered from Europe. They talked about many things, his job, her work. They talked about horses and food. She told him about her life in New Orleans and he, in return, told her very little about himself. After a drink or two he would stand and make his way to the door giving her a very chaste kiss before leaving. How she wanted more than that. She wanted to feel him lie beside her. She needed to feel those strong hands caress her body. For that forbidden second or two she stared at the long lean form on the bed, then came to her senses and gathered up the covers from where they had fallen and placed them firmly back around him.

She sat watching for a while longer, he seemed quieter now but he was still feverish. Why did this man build such a wall around himself? He was kind and thoughtful and could be very gentle and caring, yet many times she had watched as he stood there alone facing a crowd of drunk Texas cowboys or a crooked gambler causing trouble in the Long Branch. He never backed down no matter what the odds, and in the end the people he was facing saw strength and control there and decided not to challenge him. He definitely had a look in his eyes at such times that let them know not to mess with him. She had watched him kill, right out there on Front Street. He seemed calm and deliberate when he drew his colt pistol and fired, but she alone knew how he hated killing. It was the one part of his job that he despised. Often he had come to her after such a show down, he would be quiet and withdrawn and have a need about him that he would never allow her to fulfill. He would sit gazing at something far away in the distance and she could feel the tension in him. Once or twice he had allowed her to massage his neck and shoulders trying to ease the tightness. He had allowed that, but only so much. Then he would remind her, as if she needed reminding, of his oath and his badge.

She wrung out the cloth and mopped his face and neck once more then became aware of footsteps coming up the stairs. It was Doc returning and she was relieved that he had not come a few minutes earlier when the Marshal's body had been on display.

"How's he been Kitty,"

"Alright I guess. He got a little restless for a while but seems to have calmed down now."

The physician checked his patient, "He's still a little warm but knowing him he'll be right as rain in a day or two."

The Doctor knew his patient well and was accurate in his prediction. Two days later the Marshal left the physicians office and walked steadily along the board walk to the jail. No one in Dodge City except the physician, the stableman and the saloon owner ever knew that he had been sick, and none of them were talking. Dillon had made it known that any sign of weakness on his part would lead to every bandit in Kansas heading for Dodge City.

The bed was comfortable and under the blankets and quilt she was warm. Even so sleep did not come easily. She chided herself for acting like a love sick school girl. After all men had been her business for many years. She could judge them quite quickly and was able to determine which ones were good people and which ones to be wary of. She had had proposals of marriage from several in her time but none fascinated her like Matt Dillon. It wasn't just his looks, though heaven knows those blue eyes and dark curls were enough to attract any woman. There was more to him than that. He was honest to the core, not only as regards his dealings with the law but also with himself. He had obviously accepted the idea that in order to be a good lawman he had to deprive himself of other pleasures in life. He isolated himself from everyone. Maybe Chester and Doc were the only people he relaxed and sometimes even laughed and joked with, but they didn't get to see the real Matt Dillon. She had come the closest to seeing who he really was. She knew how he hated killing, how he could be kind and considerate and how he always put others way ahead of himself. He was so much more than the stoic lawman everyone else saw, the one who faced hired guns on Front Street, controlled drunken cowboys with his powerful voice and chased killers across the prairie to bring them to justice. She saw the man who liked to be alone. When he was by himself he did not have to hide his feelings or pretend to be the cold hard representative of the law. She thought that was why he went off sometimes, just so he could relax and be himself. In a way she could understand that, but surely every man needed someone to come home to. She would willingly be that person for Matt Dillon if he would just allow her into his heart.

She had plans for Christmas and they kept going around in her head. Last year had been a disaster and she hoped there would not be a repeat of that. Her thoughts came back to the present. Even though the fire in the stove was burning brightly and the new quilt was carefully arranged on the bed, everything felt so cold and empty. She tried to imagine how it would feel to be lying next to someone who she really cared about and who cared about her. The forbidden glimpse she had had several months ago came back to her mind as she fell asleep.

At last Christmas Eve dawned. The Long Branch came to life around lunch time with platters of meat, cakes and pies being arranged along the bar and on two tables towards the rear of the saloon. It seemed like even the weather was cooperating and the street had dried up from the heavy rains they had experienced the week before. She had ordered some "not too expensive" whisky, and three bartenders were distributing free drinks quite liberally to get folks well into the Christmas spirit.

Better still, just yesterday the special packages she had ordered had come in on the Santa Fe and she had hurriedly taken them to her room.

It was about noon time before she saw him striding along the other side of Front Street. Usually he was up and about hours before she even opened an eye, but this morning she felt like a kid again, hardly able to wait for the excitement of the day to begin. Doc had been in earlier to grab a cup of coffee before leaving to make two house calls.

"You won't forget this evening, will you?" she had quietly spoken to him as she poured him a shot from a bottle of the good whisky. "Be here about 8 o'clock, and if you see Chester, remind him."

"No one has to remind Chester to come for a free meal," the physician laughed and swiped his mustache, "he'll probably be here an hour early. Have you reminded Matt?"

"Yes, but I'll tell him again when he comes by."

The physician knew that Kitty had something in mind for herself and the Marshal. He had known for sometime that she had feelings for the man. Had watched them sit talking and laughing together and guessed there was some kind of chemistry between them. Sadly that overgrown civil servant seemed to think that the piece of tin on his chest was more important than the love of a good woman. Still medicine was his business, not matchmaking, so he kept his observations and opinions to himself, figuring that these two young people would have to figure things out for themselves. The only instructions he had been given were to make sure Chester left with him, right after the Marshal went to make his rounds, just after midnight. Kitty was fond of Chester but did not want him hanging around to spoil whatever plans she had made.

Kitty, in fact, had been doing a lot of figuring. She had put the the finest sheets she owned on her bed, arranged the scented candles inconspicuously around her room and set the expensive bottle of oil on a small stand where she could light the warming candle under it when the time was right. The stove was all set to light and the wood box full. She placed a new silky nightgown on the bed, and the best bottle of whisky she could find on the sideboard, then stepped back to look at the effect. The last thing to be arranged was for the bath tub to be filled with hot water, but that would wait until the Marshal left to make his late rounds, after which he would return to find….well tonight was to be all or nothing.

Kitty had been entertaining her three friends in the room behind the bar where whisky and other stock was usually kept. Sometimes the room served as a quiet corner for her to work on the books but tonight she had used it to set a fine table for them all. They had feasted on turkey and all the Christmas fare she had managed to find. At midnight they had all raised their glasses in a toast and right now Chester was still trying to consume "just one more piece" of that peach cobbler old Mrs. Simmonds had made. She looked around at the empty wine bottles and decided they had consumed a little more than intended, but it only happened once a year and surely by now they should all be feeling content and relaxed. She looked across at Doc who was chewing on a tooth pick and recounting some story to Chester who was half way believing it. Kitty had heard it before but had to admit Doc could spin a better yarn than anyone else. The story was over and the physician was slapping his thigh and laughing at how he had led Chester on right to the last line. Then Kitty looked at him and nodded her head. Doc seemed to sober up immediately.

"Oh yes .. well.. I need to get going now Kitty. That was a wonderful evening."

It seemed to have the desired effect on Matt who pushed his chair back and looked at the old clock ticking away on the wall. "I should be making rounds about now, Kitty. I agree with Doc, that was the finest spread I have sat down to in many a year."

He took his hat from on top of a nearby whisky barrel and started towards the door.

Kitty got up and followed him.

The saloon was almost deserted now, except for a couple of drunks barely managing to stand upright but still clinging to the bar. They would need to be helped up and out of there. The three barkeeps were starting to stack the chairs and sweep the floor. There still remained a large collection of mugs and shot glasses to be washed and put away and several empty beer kegs to be taken outside, but piece by piece it was getting done. The girls who had been working that night looked exhausted, even so they were helping clear away the mess that always remains after any celebration.

Matt was about to leave and walk out onto the boardwalk. She got up close to him.

"Come back by here when you're through, I have some fine aged malt whisky upstairs that I think you'll like."

He smiled at her knowingly. He had been to her room several times to have a "nightcap". She was always good company, but he was scared that his natural instincts would take over if he spent to much time alone with her. She was indeed so easy for him to be with, and that fiery red hair and blue eyes could set his heart turning over if he let it. He just couldn't allow himself get involved. Many other women he met made eyes at him or tried to get close to him, but he could resist those, they didn't get under his skin like Kitty did. He hated to admit it even to himself but he could easily fall in love with her if he allowed it. Still, she had never made more advances than he allowed and he had explained his situation as far as his job was concerned. She seemed to understand and accept that.

He smiled and looked into her face. It was flushed and excited, probably from the wine they had been drinking. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Don't forget now," she had a chuckle in her voice as she spoke.

"How could I?" Yes he would come back, just for a drink though. He owed her that much.

Kitty watched him walk away then turned and went back to her remaining company. Doc was trying to drag Chester away from the food.

"Miss Kitty, you don't mind if I stay and eat just a little more of that pie do you?"  
>She managed to laugh at him. "I'll tell you what, I 'll put the rest of this on a plate and you can take it on home with you."<p>

She managed to get them both out the door and onto the street. She hoped Chester would make it back to the jail, he was definitely a little unsteady on his feet, and as for Doc - well she hoped no one needed his services tonight.

It was almost two hours later and everything was ready. She heard him climbing the stairs and went to let him in. It was already freezing outside and he looked chilled.

"Tell you what Matt, there's a tub full of hot water back there. Sam and Red filled it for me, but I really am not in the mood tonight. Shame to waste it, go on in there and soak, I promise not to interrupt you.

She led him into the bathroom and placed a glass of whisky on a small stool by the tub, then pushed a thick fluffy towel into his hand before he had time to object. There was nothing like a hot bath to get a man out of his clothes and relax his mind and body. She carefully closed the door behind her as she left him and went to light the candles and warm the oil.

She could hear him through the door and when sounds indicated that he was leaving the tub, she called to him, "just put that towel around you and come in here and relax, I've got the stove burning bright and this whisky is begging to be sipped.

She had the sheets pulled back and had changed into the silky nightgown. It was not too revealing but clung nicely to her figure.

Carefully he opened the door leading back to the bedroom. "Kitty I told you.." He saw her standing there and it was all he could do to keep his mind on his badge. Sometimes he wanted to have the warmth and comfort that a home and loving wife could provide, but the responsibility did not fit with the chancy nature of his work.

She could tell what he was thinking and tried to set his fears to rest, at least for the time being.

"I know, and I understand. See here," she held up the delicately decoratd glass bottle that held the expensive massage oil she had ordered from Paris. "This has taken six months to get here and if i don't use it soon it will go bad. So come lie on this bed and let me ease those shoulder muscles of yours."

He knew he should say no. He should leave now, but Kitty could be very persuasive and he hated to hurt her feelings. Also deep down he knew he did not want to leave the warmth of this room and her company.

Somehow she had him lying face down on the bed. she had arranged the pillow under his chest so that his neck was straight.

The scented oil made a puddle in the palm of her hand, it was just warm enough to be comfortable. She rubbed her hands together to spread it out over her fingers, then deciding it was now or never, reached out and smoothed it over his broad shoulders and neck. The oil enabled her fingers to slide and as she worked it in, it gave off a very delicate musky scent. Gradually she worked her fingers deeper into his neck and around his shoulder blades. She was tempted to work further down his back but knew to take things very slowly. She could feel that she was having an effect on him. She worked her way back into safer territory by making small pressure circles with her thumbs on either side of his neck close to the spine. The circles wound upwards until she reached the spot where the dark curls of his still damp hair began falling through her fingers as she worked.

"Kitty…" he tried to lift up and away from her, but she pushed him down. "Just enjoy it Matt."

He could feel his body enjoying it all to well, it would be so easy to relax and accept whatever happened. He should never have come back here tonight.

"I have to go…"  
>"What's the matter, don't you like it?" She continued to work her fingers down around his well muscled shoulders. She knew how to do this.<p>

"I can't, I told you."

She stopped for a moment. Her voice became stern.

"You told me you took an oath when they pinned that badge on you and you became a United States Marshal. You didn't become a priest, you never took a vow of celibacy did you?"

"No but .."

"But what? I'm not asking you to marry me, or even commit to a relationship. We are both grown adults with no ties to anyone else. Let's just enjoy the moment."

He relaxed a little. There was something in what she said. He couldn't deny his manhood, it was trying it's hardest to manifest itself right now.

"But Kitty.." he tried once more. She could tell she was gaining the upper hand, his objections were weakening.

"It's Christmas Matt, just enjoy it."

She began to work her fingers once more, sinking them deep into his strong back and slowly working her way down his spine. She could feel him relax as her fingers worked the magic she had learned over the years.

"Kitty" he said at last, she stopped and he slowly turned over to face her. Reaching up he put his hand behind her head and pulled her down until their lips were about to meet. Not a chaste farewell kiss this time, but a deep exploring one as their mouths joined and he pulled her even closer to him. She could feel his excitement as he rolled her onto the bed beside him.

"This gown is beautiful, but we don't need it right now." He helped her get it off over her head and the towel he was wearing fell to the floor. Now she could see again the sight she had witnessed in Doc's office all those months ago. This time she had no feelings of guilt for looking at it.

Slowly, carefully he rolled on top of her.

This was the Christmas she had wished for.

END


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